Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long in coming, it's a lot longer than the previous chapters. I probably could have broken it up but, eh, I'll just keep it as is. Still no flashback! It almost made it, but I didn't want to draw this chapter out any longer than it already was. So that will be in the beginning of the next chapter.

As a note, the point of view switches a few times in this chapter. Let me know if this is too confusing. I've separated pov changes with a double-hyphen in-between them.

Chapter Three: A Slow-Burning Poison

"Sit."

A blonde-haired boy of about fifteen sat in front of a large desk covered in a clutter of papers. He looked far too smug for a student in his position – seated directly in front of Professor Severus Snape – and the Potions Master was quick to rectify that travesty.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, it's just as unflattering to your features as it is to your father's."

Immediately any thought of this being a privileged meeting seemed to flee from the boy's mind. He sat with his hands at his sides, watching the Professor as his quill slashed through the parchment he had pulled from the top of the stack. The fifth-year Potions class had just let out; evidently he was getting a head-start on grading the two pages of parchment he had made them write during class.

"I've kept you behind to discuss a matter of some sensitivity."

The boy's eyes lit up, and Severus could hear all of the fanciful thoughts flitting about in his ridiculous head. This is it, it's finally time. I can finally prove my worth to Lord Voldemort. He remembered when he had been so eager. With his induction into the Death Eaters came the promise of power and respect; the two things he was going to need to keep his precious Lily safe from the darkness he knew all too well.

"Try not to look quite so pathetic, Malfoy." When Draco's expression slid dejectedly, Severus continued. "You have elected to take the Non-Magical Defense class, have you not?"

"Yes, sir." Taking Snape's lack of encouragement as disapproval, he stammered out a bit of reasoning. "Personally I think studying Muggle methods is a complete waste of time, but Potter signed up, so I figured I ought to keep an eye on him."

Severus barely managed to contain the smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth. Draco was attempting to sound pompous and important, just like his father. He would certainly have to put an end to that.

"While I admire your… methods of surveillance, you would do well to re-evaluate your current position on such 'Muggle methods'. Tell me, young Malfoy, what would you do were you disarmed and confronted by an Auror who had years of hand-to-hand combat at his disposal?"

"I—"

Severus waved him off impatiently. "While I believe it might be prudent for you to learn how to defend yourself when stripped of your wand, I am not certain the candidate the Headmaster has selected will be able to properly instruct you."

"I heard she's a Half-blood. Is that true, Professor?" Draco's face was scrunched in disgust, his lips forming the choice word with the utmost disdain.

"How many times have I told you not to underestimate your competition?" He snapped. Seeing the puzzled look on Draco's face, he quickly composed himself. His own mixed heritage had oft' been an inflammatory topic in the Slytherin Commons Room during his schooldays. He certainly didn't need that trend to continue now. "Just because anyone with a wand can make it into the Gryffindor House does not mean you should disregard their potential for power." Seeing Draco's expression slide into a more relaxed one, he continued, quickly changing the subject. "Now, this is not to reach anyone else's ears."

He nodded vigorously, leaning in.

"I do not trust this Professor Silvirin. When you are in her classroom I would like you to carefully observe her behavior. If she performs in any manner that poses a discrepancy with Hogwarts policy, you are to notify me and I will alert the Headmaster. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Severus gave a short nod that Draco read only as approval, not as the dismissal the Potions Master had planned. His voice quite bored as he returned to his papers, Professor Snape inquired: "Don't you have some manner of class to be getting to."

"Yes, sir." He gathered his books and stood, turning for the exit before stopping to look back once more. "Professor, I just wanted to say… I won't let you down."

"See that you do not."

As the door finally closed, Severus set down his quill and succumbed to the smirk that had been threatening to settle upon his lips throughout the entire conversation. He was quite certain Draco Malfoy would not fail at this task. In fact, he counted on the arrogant, self-important little whelp to go above and beyond what was required of him.

--

It was just after lunch when students began to file into the first Non-Magical Defense class in over a century, and as Ligistra silently watched them make a ruckus with a few choice charms, she began to regret her decision of asking the Headmaster to schedule the class directly after the students had re-energized from their meal.

Though a mix of students from all houses due to the currently elective nature of the class, the size was no greater than any other. Perhaps a few students more than the Defense Against the Dark Arts class she had sat in on earlier that day. She smiled in recollection. Professor Lupin had been very warm and welcoming.

The smile faded as one particular student walked in. Dark hair, glasses, and an unmistakable scar. She knew exactly who he was. But unlike most, her identification of him was not as The Boy Who Lived, but as James and Lily's son. Though she held no fondness for James, she remembered Lily as a smiling face who had once offered help in Charms, one of Ligistra's worst subjects while in school.

A pang of sadness hit her and she immediately reined her thoughts back to the present. It would do no good to hopelessly meander through the past, reliving one tragedy after another. So she waited, unnoticed at the back of the classroom until the very last student – a stocky boy with dark hair – took a seat beside the Potter boy and the same two companions she had witnessed him with during Professor Lupin's class.

The paper bird, she noticed, was still sailing through the air, kept afloat by the flick of a wand every now and again. It was an entertaining little trick that had been used to the exact same effect during her days as a student, but she had a trick of her own that might prove a bit more entertaining. Reaching down inside her boot she drew out a small dagger, deftly aiming it, her hand motionless, her gaze locked onto the paper bird. As it reached its apex, thrust upward by the momentum of another cast, she loosed the dagger in one fluid motion, sending it slicing through the air in a straight path that ended with the blade being partially buried in the far wall, the paper bird securely skewered.

The ruckus that had prevailed suddenly stopped, dwindling into mere whispers of amazement as the students looked on. One by one they began to turn, tracing the path of the dagger back to its owner.

"Welcome to Non-Magical Defense."

--

Severus Snape sat behind the desk of an empty classroom on the ground floor, his quill working over some papers he had brought up from the dungeon. An odd place for him indeed, as he rather abhorred working anywhere but in the comfort and solitude of his own office. But a fox could not be properly smoked out if there was no one waiting on the other side of its hole. Still, he knew if any colleagues stumbled upon him they would be highly suspicious, and for that reason he had waited until the halls were bare to duck inside, casting a concealment charm as soon as he entered.

Though his hand worked furiously, generously scrawling red ink over the parchment laid out before him, Severus' attention was only minimally directed toward the student's work. Much of his effort was concentrated on the wall that stood between him and Professor Silvirin, as for Severus it was not a wall, but a window into her classroom; the means by which he would teach her that crossing him was indeed a very bad idea. Severus flicked his gaze toward the wall as her voice finally rose over the din of students. No, not rose over – completely squelched. What had she done to silence them? He looked for evidence of a concealed wand, but found none. The lingering gazes of some of the students gave away the secret to her success and his brow furrowed. What ridiculous children these were, to be so impressed by a pub trick.

She wasted little time with introductions or explanations, showing the class a bo before beginning a lesson instructing them in its use. Her first several demonstrations were flawless, her actions full of purpose and grace. But by the third strike it seemed as though she had never handled the weapon in her life. Her hands became clumsy tools; merely a hindrance, her legs always in the way. The bo itself seemed unreasonably awkward as though it were curved several different ways. A smirk tugged at Severus' lips as his gaze settled upon Draco Malfoy. At least the boy was good for something.

--

Professor Silvirin grabbed another bo, noting to her class that the balance of a weapon played a huge part in its effectiveness. This time the Slytherins didn't conceal their snickers as she had trouble handling the weapon yet again. Only Crabbe and Goyle seemed aware of Draco's part in all of this. Everyone else assumed Ligistra Silvirin was merely ill-equipped to teach the subject.

After the third 'off-balance' bo she wisely decided to let the students continue the demonstration, pairing two Hufflepuff boys to practice choreographed strikes. She observed as they took their first strikes, their awkwardness the obvious result of inexperience. Her gaze followed the weapons as they were wielded a second time. Normal strike, though a bit wobbly. Fear-induced block, no strength behind it. Another normal strike, but… over-extended, pulled to the right, nearly drawing the student off-balance. Ligistra's gaze narrowed as she scanned the seated students, looking for signs of foul play.

There it was. The flick of a wand underneath the desk. She traced the instrument up to its owner – a blonde-haired boy she recognized as Lucius Malfoy's son. She stalked the perimeter of the classroom, always keeping Malfoy in the corner of her gaze. For the moment it was an asset that the boy was so thoroughly engrossed in his mischief-making. Finally settling against the wall behind him, she watched as his wand flicked again, causing one of the dueling boys to stumble. She shook her head. She couldn't stand these arrogant little whelps thought they were entirely above the rules because of their lineage.

"Enjoying yourself, Malfoy?"

The blonde-haired boy's body tensed, his shoulders squared as though preparing for the coming onslaught. She watched with a smirk as he slowly tucked his wand away before turning to face her. The expression slowly slid into one of annoyance when she caught sight of the wide smirk settling comfily on his face.

"Not particularly. You should really be certain you're not going to make a total fool of yourself before you elect to teach a class, 'Professor'."

Ligistra clenched her jaw. How dare a boy – a boy half her age – speak to her as though she were beneath him. He looked so much like his father at that moment, and Ligistra easily recalled how she had always loathed Lucius Malfoy, even more than James Potter.

"Stand up," she commanded through clenched teeth.

A flicker of amusement danced in Draco's eyes.

"Stand. Up. Mister Malfoy."

Her glare bored into him, scrutinizing his every move. The smugness began to slide out of his expression as he pushed his chair out to stand.

She leaned in close, speaking so only he could hear. "You want to put me in my place, hm? Teach the half-blood a lesson? Go on then." She inwardly smirked at the confusion written on his face before continuing. "Retrieve your wand, and have a go." She straightened, standing before him unarmed.

Draco continued to stare, then with a glance to his friends, reached for his wand. Before he could manage to form any words she had flicked her own concealed wand into her hand, deftly barking an Expelliarmus! with her wand directed at his. His wand flew out of his hand, landing two rows behind him. She quickly concealed her own wand once more, advancing on him.

"Accio bo!" She commanded, one of the wooden staves flying into her hand as she continued to pursue the back-pedaling boy. "What's the matter, Malfoy? Not quite so tough without your wand, are you?"

She had no intentions of harming the boy, though the practiced look she wore suggested otherwise. She merely wanted to scare him a bit. Pureblood or not, she would not put up with the bullying antics of an adolescent. Malfoy was backed against the desk with nowhere to go. She smirked. Perhaps he would learn his lesson. She opened her mouth to say as much when she was interrupted by a familiar, distanced drawl:

"Cease your advancement, Professor, lest I cite you for additional damages in addition to those you've already acquired."